


Sweet As Sugar

by Starkidjordan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Skinny!Steve, preserum!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkidjordan/pseuds/Starkidjordan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop me.” Steve breathed. </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Stop me,” He repeated, shifting closer. His eyes traced down Bucky’s face, coming to rest on his lips. “If you want, you can stop me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet As Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick stucky drabble! :)

By the time Bucky got off work the sun was long gone and the wind nipped at his skin. He blinked, adjusting to the dark as he tucked his hands in his pockets, vaguely wondering what time Steve made it back to the apartment. He hoped it wasn’t as cold when Steve walked home. Bucky wondered if Steve wore the coat he left on his bed that morning. It was several sizes too big on Steve’s tiny frame, but Bucky refused to wear it himself. It wasn’t quite blistering cold yet, but the air whipped around and was chilly enough that day to raise the hair on the back of a grown man’s neck. Bucky figured that kind of weather was enough to unsettle Steve’s broken lungs. So he left his coat behind, hoping Steve would damn his pride and wear it anyways. 

The thought of his best friend swallowed up in his clothes warmed Bucky’s skin a little. 

The walk from the docks wasn’t so bad, and within five minutes their apartment building was looming above him. Its shabby brick facade and rusted fire escape were familiar as ever, even in the dim light from the lamps on the street. Bucky peered up to the third floor of the building and spotted the light glowing out of the window that belonged to the kitchen of their little apartment. He smiled, glad Steve made it home before him. Maybe he’d cooked up something nice. Maybe it’d be soup, something to sit warm in his belly. Though Bucky’s belly always seemed to warm when he was with Steve.

Taking the steps two at a time, Bucky scaled the three flights and tested the knob. The door was unlocked, which only got him smiling wider. Steve had waited up for him. He walked into the apartment, looking over the small living room before him. 

“Steve?” Bucky called. When he didn’t get his answer he wandered through the kitchen, which lay to the right of the front room. The lights were on and the tap was dripping. There was no food bubbling on the stove, much to his stomach’s dismay, and nothing set on the little table next to the window. 

On the white porcelain of the sink was a single drop of something red and thick. There was a smear of the stuff on the floor not far away.

“Shit.” Bucky swore and turned on his heel, walking back through the kitchen to their shared bedroom. There was light flooding out of the crack under the bathroom door.

“Stevie? Hey, Steve, you in there pal?”

“Jus’ a sec,” Steve’s voice was muffled through the door, but the sound sent a flood of relief through Bucky. 

The door opened and Bucky let out a breath when he saw the look on Steve’s face. His eyes were rimmed in red, his lip was split, and there was a good sized bruise blooming on his chin. Steve’s hair was caked with blood just above his hairline on his left. Bucky was sure there’d be a cut hiding in his blonde hair.

Bucky’s hands came up to cup at Steve’s face before he knew what he was doing. 

“Damn it Steve,” He breathed, shifting one of his hands to push gently at Steve’s shoulder, guiding him back to sit on the edge of the toilet. 

Crouching before him, Bucky picked up the damp washcloth Steve must’ve prepared. He gently took Steve’s chin in his left hand and dabbed the cloth gingerly at his hairline, clearing the dried up blood away. He inspected the cut, glad to find it to be small, and not in need of any kind of stitching. Bucky reached into the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a bottle of peroxide. Sitting back on his heels, he dabbed some onto the cloth and gently wiped along the cut, apologizing when Steve flinched a little at the sting.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky said, letting go of Steve’s chin to dab at the cut on his lip. “Who the fuck did you pick a fight with this time Steve, goddamn it?” 

Steve averted his eyes from Bucky, tilting his head away from the cloth at his lips. He sniffed a little, willing himself not to cry again. Bucky’s head reeled. Steve never cried after a fight. “Stevie,” Bucky breathed, trying to catch his friend’s eyes again.

“This time wasn’t like that Buck.” Steve’s eyes found his again. Bucky’s skin prickled like it had in the wind, and his stomach flipped on himself. “These two guys–”

Steve swallowed thickly, his eyes still boring into Bucky’s. “Yeah, Steve?”

“They called me– a queer, ‘nd I told them to leave me alone but. I– they kinda cornered me. And, well– you know the rest.” He continued, gesturing vaguely to his bloodied face. 

“Fuck. Steve,” Bucky said, blood boiling. “You’re no queer, who the fuck do they think they are? You know who they were?”

Steve cast his eyes away again, shifting back on the toilet, away from Bucky a little. He made a noncommittal noise and sniffed again.

“What’s wrong? You cryin’ cause it hurts, or cause of what they called you? You ain’t a queer Steve.” Bucky said, furious at the very thought of anyone ganging up on a man half their size.

“Neither, Buck.” Steve mumbled, running a hand through his hair, avoiding the injured area. “Just go to bed. I can take care of myself.”

“I– I know that Steve. You think I don’t know that?” Bucky said back, hardness slipping into his words. “I’m here cause I wanna be. I got your back. You know that.” He added, glad to see the trace of a smile appear on Steve’s lips. “Why are you crying Stevie?”

“I’m– I don’t know,” Steve said, closing his eyes. “Buck, I don’t know what I am. Maybe– if I were, would it be so– I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked, his heart beating a hole in his chest. 

Steve didn’t answer, but he lifted his eyes back to Bucky’s again. 

“Stop me.” Steve breathed. 

“Huh?”

“Stop me,” He repeated, shifting closer. His eyes traced down Bucky’s face, coming to rest on his lips. “If you want, you can stop me.”

Before Bucky could comprehend what was happening, Steve was leaning down into his space. He hovered close enough to share breath for a moment, giving Bucky the chance to push him away. 

Suddenly the gap between them closed. Neither of them were sure who moved first. 

The feeling of their lips pressed together sent Bucky’s head spinning. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Bucky sucked in a breath through his nose, pressing just a little closer, unsure of what to do with his hands.

Too soon, Steve pulled back. His eyes fluttered open, and he searched Bucky’s face for an answer to a question he didn’t have to ask.

Bucky made a sound in the back of his throat and lifted himself off his heels so he was on both knees, wedged firmly between Steve’s thighs, their stomachs pressed together and their chests only an inch apart. He brought a hand up to the back of Steve’s neck, and brought their mouths together firmly. 

Steve winced, the cut on his lip making things difficult. Bucky mumbled an apology and gently mouthed at the cut, sucking a little. Steve smiled and gripped Bucky’s hips. They kissed like this for a while, gentle and calm. Exploring. Warm and wet and sweet as sugar. 

Bucky pulled back reluctantly. “What’re we doin’ Steve?” He dropped his head onto Steve’s shoulder, breathing into his neck.

“I don’t know. Glad you didn’t stop me.”

Bucky lifted his head and met Steve’s eyes shyly, chuckling a little. “Yeah,” He smiled. “Me too.”

Steve smiled sadly, dragging his hands up Bucky’s torso to rest on his chest. “Please don’t leave me.”

Bucky’s heart sank in his chest. He didn’t even need to ask. “You know?”

Steve nodded and let out a breath. “I found your papers. You left them in your coat.”

Bucky grinned suddenly, making Steve’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “So you did wear it.”

Steve’s face lit up in a grin to match Bucky’s own. “Jerk. It was cold out. I looked like an idiot swimmin’ in your clothes. Probably why those guys jumped me.”

“You were warm though. Thanks to me.” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, melancholy seeping back into his voice. They sat in silence, hands still on the other. Steve went about running his hands over Bucky, who dropped his head back on his shoulder.

“When do you get your orders?” Steve asked quietly, his finger tracing down the side of Bucky’s neck. 

Bucky closed his eyes, breathing out his nose. “Dunno. Couple weeks maybe?”

“Okay.” Steve said, not sure what to do next. 

When Bucky heard Steve sniff again he lifted his head, pressing his lips to Steve’s neck, up and around his jaw, and the corner of his mouth. 

“Steve. Look at me,” Bucky said, quiet, but firm. “I am coming back.”

“You can’t make that promise. You can’t.”

Bucky smiled sadly. “You’re stuck with me Steven Grant. I’ll always find my way back to you.”

Steve smiled and let out a huff of laughter. “Don’t call me that.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve said, his smile brightening. “Wait up for me. I’ll be there too one day. Just gotta find someone who’ll give me the chance.”

“They’d be stupid not to.” Bucky said. At least he could find secret peace in the knowledge that Steve would never be accepted. He would be safe here, with the money Bucky could send. The only danger to him would be his health. But Bucky would be sure to leave his coat. 

“Come ‘ere,” Bucky said, unwrapping himself from Steve. He stood, and offered his hand to help Steve do the same. “I’ll cook you up somethin’ nice.”

“You can’t cook and you know it.” Steve grinned up at him and kept a hold of Bucky’s hand, lacing their fingers.

“What would I do without my best guy?” He smiled back, feeling almost lightheaded at the sight of Steve smiling up at him, bruises at all. 

They made their way back to the kitchen, and Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave Steve’s frame for a second. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m coming back to you. Till the end of the line, Pal. Till the end of the line.”


End file.
